


Companion

by AudaciousAuthoress



Series: Legends of Tamriel [2]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Action/Adventure, Companions, Friendship, Humor, Jorrvaskr, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2018-04-11 16:06:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4442291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AudaciousAuthoress/pseuds/AudaciousAuthoress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At first glance, aspiring mercenary Toralf ‘the Fearless’ seems like a petty, dime-a-dozen ‘adventurer’. He’s a braggart, has an insanely large ego, and shamelessly flirts with almost any woman he passes by, not to mention he’s not as ‘fearless’ as he claims to be. It’s a surprise to many that he has any end goals at all, much less a goal including joining the Companions, the most honorable band of warriors in all of Skyrim and possibly even in all of Tamriel. Though he doesn’t look like much, this young man has a will of steel and wears a façade that he’s long since forgotten how to live without.</p><p>He somehow manages to get accepted into the faction, but his trials are far from over. His attitude will cause him to clash with many of his comrades and his tendency to lie will not endear him to them either, and, in turn, he finds it difficult to trust any of them and he'll begin to wonder why he even joined.</p><p>Will this young hero-in-the-making somehow find a way to overcome his past with help from his new comrades and and rise to his potential, or will his false pride be his downfall?</p><p>(Rated PG-13 for violence, character deaths, mild language, and some some potentially horrible pick-up lines.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

_Bliss._

 

__That was the strongest feeling running through my veins as I lay in the sun-warmed, golden grass taking in the warmth of the day, inhaling the smell of my newly found freedom. With only a slight bit of reluctance, I opened my eyes, looking up at an impossibly bright cerulean sky, the midday sun casting warm rays on all that lay below. A small smile appeared on my face as my heart soared - It hadn’t been a dream. I had often checked to make sure it wasn’t, and I still couldn’t believe I’d - we’d really managed it. I was finally free from those oppressive walls, free from feelings of inferiority, and free to do as I pleased. And from this day forward, I was done with feeling insignificant._ _

 

 

_“Toralf?” A voice asked quietly, and I turned my head in that direction._

 

__She was every bit as beautiful as she had been before, her warm chocolate eyes brighter than they’d ever seemed before and her soft smile all the more beautiful to me. Her flaxen locks of radiant gold framed her face attractively,  a few tendrils of it spread out and almost blending into the turf around us._ _

 

 

_“Mhmm?” I responded, smiling at her slightly dreamy expression._

 

__“I still can’t believe we did that. You’re so brave, to do what you did for us.”_ _

 

 

_“Well, we all did it, and I couldn’t have managed without you, Harron, or Atellus. But this is real. We won’t ever have to go back to that place again, Lisif,” I promised._

 

 _“I know. But I still can’t believe it._ "

 

_“Neither can I, but it happened,” I grinned, sitting up at long last, a slight breeze ruffling my hair as I did so._

_Self-consciously smoothing it down, I looked around, noticing_ _Atellus_ _sitting not too far away from Lisif and me, his green eyes narrowed in thought as he looked off thoughtfully into the distance. A twinge of sadness hit me as I realized what he was thinking about. He’d certainly gotten the worst of the injuries from our escape last night, both physically and emotionally. I pushed myself to my feet and walked over to him, taking a seat next to him._

_“How’s your arm holding up?” I asked him, glancing at his crudely wrapped appendage._

_Atellus_ _looked at me, his eyes alarmingly dull as he answered, “Well enough, friend. It’s the least of my worries…”_

_I sighed, “There was nothing you could do - nothing any of us could do. He wasn’t in any shape to go with us, and he told us to go without him. And I have a feeling we will see him again.”_

_“... I certainly hope so.”_

_Changing the subject quickly, I asked, “Hey, do you know where Harron went? I haven’t seen him for a bit.”_

_“He’s still out hunting, from what I know. He’s obsessed with that new hunting bow he found,”_ _Atellus_ _laughed, some of his old cheerfulness coming back, “Speaking of which, you know the deserted bandit camp we came across last night? I picked up a couple weapons myself, but can’t really use most of them at the moment because of… well… you know…” he said awkwardly, “But you still don’t have anything other than that_ ladle _to defend yourself with, do you?”_

 

_“... No…” I muttered embarrassedly, looking away._

_“You can have one of the things I took, then. Here,”_ _Atellus_ _gestured to the miscellaneous pile of weapons that I’d somehow managed to overlook laying not too far away._

_Slightly surprised that he hadn’t made a snarky comment about my makeshift weapon, I made my way over to the pile, sorting through the mostly useless, rusty weapons until my eyes landed on a steel warhammer. It was in considerably better shape than most of the others, and the design was rather pleasing to the eye. I picked it up, and, though it was somewhat heavy, it felt well-balanced in my hands. I swung it experimentally, and, though my swing was a bit wild and very unpracticed, I felt joy at being able to wield such a thing._

_“If you had a suit of armor instead of the rags we’re all wearing at the moment, I’d say you almost look like a mercenary with that thing!” I turned around to see Harron coming towards the group, his hunting bow slung over one shoulder and a few dead rabbits in his arms, a satisfied and lazy smirk on his face._

_“Still playing the skilled huntsman yourself, I see?” I shot back, grinning as well._

_“Ah, shut up,” he muttered good-naturedly, “You’re not one to talk.”_

_“Mercenary?” Lisif piped up, suddenly interested, “Hey, Toralf, you could join the Companions in Whiterun!”_

_“... Companions?” I raised an eyebrow at her, slightly amused by the name._

_“I’m surprised you never heard of them, Red. They’re practically the most skilled and strongest warriors in all of Skyrim. If you were to actually get some coordination, that sort of work might actually suit you,” Harron cut in, acting the know-it-all as he usually did._

_Disregarding his rude remarks, I responded to Lisif, staring her dead in the eye, “That sounds intriguing… But there’s no way I’m leaving you guys. Ever. Wherever one of us goes, the rest of us go. I’m not about to forget about that promise.”_

 

_Lisif’s grateful expression made my earlier promise seem all the more worth it. And I would die before anything would separate us._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I planned on posting this story on here somewhat later - at least, until after I'd introduced and fully established Toralf's character in Mage, but I've been making rather slow progress with that rewrite and just wanted to be able to repost at least one of my works in its entirety here, so that's what I plan to do with this particular story. It's unavoidable that there will be some slight spoilers in this particular fanfic for Mage, so I advise those of you who are reading it to not read any further past the prologue in this story unless you don't mind some things being spoiled. Also, the quality of the prologue and first chapter of this is a bit iffy, so I apologize for any typos or general blandness; I can guarantee that by Chapter Two things pick up a little more. Regardless, I hope this prologue was at least remotely enjoyable. :)
> 
> Thanks for reading this, and hope to see you next chapter!
> 
> \- AA


	2. Arrival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please Note: There are minor spoilers for Mage in this chapter, if you missed the Author's Note at the bottom of the last chapter. Just wanted to make sure that wouldn't catch anyone by surprise.

It wasn’t a far walk from the Bannered Mare to Jorrvaskr, but it certainly felt like the longest one of my life.

 

Of course, it wasn’t long in the sense that I have a pathetic amount of stamina or anything like that, else I wouldn’t have gone into such a career pursuit as mercenary work. It was just, well... I still wasn’t quite certain if I’d made the right choice, leaving the mage-wannabe and the Dragonborn’s company for this. I probably could have learned some helpful things from continuing to travel with them - though I’d say I was definitely more than prepared for whatever trials that I would face before joining their ranks. It would be a lie to say I wasn’t excited to prove myself to them and start anew, and perhaps finally be able to leave everything else where it belonged - in the past.

 

_“-Aye, love. Love! Even as man, great Talos cherished us. For he saw in us, in each of us, the future of Skyrim! The future of Tamriel!”_

 

These words cut through my thoughts suddenly and obnoxiously, jarringly loud. I looked around with a glare, my gaze landing on a robed priest of some sort standing by a statue of Talos with his arms raised passionately, talking to no one in particular, it seemed. This caused me to let out an amused snort as I passed by, continuing on my way without so much as a second glance in the man’s direction.  _What a way to waste your life,_  I thought, shaking my head ever so slightly as I made my way to my destination.

 

It didn’t take too much longer to reach it, and I was somewhat taken aback by the looks of the place. It was probably one of the most impressionable places I’d ever seen, for that matter. The impressive building rested atop a grand hill, the size of which complimented the hall well. The roof of the structure seemed to be made out of some sort of ancient warship, with brightly-painted yet fading shields hung on the sides in proud display, and the walls were made of a sturdy wood of almost the same color as the ‘roof’. In the distance, there was a stone platform of some sorts which I assumed was most likely Skyforge.

 

 _Stop gawking like an idiot and get up there. If things go like I think they will, you’ll be seeing this place daily_ , I reassured myself as I walked up the stone steps, unconsciously holding my breath.

 

I waited a moment outside the doors, not quite certain why I was hesitating. Perhaps it was because this was the moment I’d been waiting for during all that time, the moment I was no longer some nameless, faceless adventurer. This was surely the path to some sort of righteous infamy, and I was about to walk into a new role.

 

 _Might as well make an impressive entrance, then,_ I smirked slightly as an idea came to my mind, and, after doing a quick once-over of my armor to make sure it looked its best, I threw open the double doors to the place and stepped through as impressively as I could, looking around casually to see what kind of effect my arrival had made on those within the building.

 

Shockingly, not a single person seemed to notice.

 

I let out a put-off noise of indignation at this and crossed my arms, walking into the considerably dimmer building and reluctantly closing the doors behind me. That’s when I realized that there was a fight going on.

 

A Dunmer man and a Nord woman were going at it with one another, fists raised and circling around one another, both waiting to see what move the other would make next. The dark elf decided to take a risk, his left fist speeding towards the woman’s jaw, but she easily dodged his punch and it flew wide as she retaliated with a blow to his gut, causing him to flinch and let out a string of curses. The Nord, not about to waste a perfectly good opportunity, took this time to completely deck him, knocking him to the floor without too much effort.

 

“That was too easy,” the woman said, smirking as the dunmer picked himself back up, glowering.

 

“Next time, Njada, I swear…” the man grumbled, shooting the triumphant Nord a dirty look.

 

“I’d like to see the day that happens, Athis,” was her final, smug comment as she turned and walked away, the crowd dispersing shortly after she left, the dunmer man included.

 

I’ll admit I stood there like an idiot for a few seconds, still very stunned by watching just what had gone on. However, I snapped out of it pretty quickly, a confident grin coming to my face as I surveyed the rest of the grand hall. Needless to say, I wasn’t disappointed. This place really did look grand, with a huge fire pit surrounded by long banquet tables made of a rich dark wood and practically every inch of its surface covered in food and drinks. The rest of the room, though less notable, was just as impressive. I don’t know what I was expecting this place to look like, but it far exceeded whatever expectations I’d had.

 

My gaze then flickered across the room as I took in the few people still present in the great hall, trying to pick out which one looked the most leaderly amongst them. They all looked relatively accomplished,  in their own ways, but one figure in particular stood out amongst them; he practically radiated authority. He seemed older than the rest of the warriors in the room, but by no means looked weak or frail, and clearly was quite experienced with fighting in general. His adventures clearly hadn’t left him unscathed, as he was blind in one eye and a rather long, thick scar trailed down from under it. Surely he had to be the man in charge here.

 

“Excuse me-” I started, making my way towards him as impressively as I could. He turned to look at me, a slightly amused and very unimpressed look on his face as I approached, crossing his arms as he looked down slightly at me. It was then I realized just how tall he was.

 

However, I refused to let myself look intimidated, and announced unfalteringly, “I would like to join the Companions.”

 

The seasoned warrior stared at me for a moment before he let out a small laugh, remarking, “You think you have what it takes? Heh. Lucky for you, I’m not the one who makes that decision.”

 

Those words stung me, but I knew better than to mouth off to this person, so I restrained myself as I asked, “Well, who does?”

 

“Talk to Kodlak. Who knows, maybe he’s in a generous mood.”

 

And, with that, the conversation was clearly over, and it seemed I hadn’t made much of a good first impression on the man at all.

 

 _Find Kodlak… Well, he certainly was a lot of help_ , I thought sarcastically, looking around. I now felt myself getting slightly nervous, as I didn’t want to make a fool of myself again by assuming the wrong person was Kodlak, or something equally embarrassing.

 

“I haven’t seen you before. Have I?”

  
  
Those words shook me from my slight confusion as I turned to see whoever had just addressed me, half-hoping it would turn out to be that Kodlak person, though, from their words, they certainly didn't sound like it.

 

The man I ended up facing was roughly around my height, though clearly a good five years older than me, if not more, and he seemed almost worried to see a new face around here. His straw-colored hair was slightly disheveled, and he looked like someone who was quite fond of drink - a bit too fond of it, it seemed, considering the faint reddish tinge under his eyes, among other things.

 

"Have we met? I'm sorry if I've forgotten," he apologized, his slightly watery blue eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he looked at me.

 

"No, I'm new. Toralf the Fearless," I introduced myself with a grin.

 

"Toralf the Fearless, huh? I'm Torvar. Nice to meet you," came the reply, sounding neither impressed nor unimpressed, just friendly; that was one thing I hadn't really been expecting.

 

"By any chance, could you direct me to wherever 'Kodlak' is? I was told to talk to him about joining your faction."

 

"Kodlak? Sure. He's probably in his room. Come on, I'll show you where it is."

 

Torvar headed towards a set of stairs on the other side of the room and I followed close behind, nodding slightly at the woman who'd won the recent fist fight as we passed her. She smirked slightly at me, but it was a quite unfriendly and almost hostile look, a look of superiority. I returned it to the best of my ability but reached the stairs before I could see her reaction.

 

Upon reaching the lower level of Jorrvaskr, I took in my surroundings, noting how the rooms down there were sleeping areas, most of them barracks. For barracks, however, they looked relatively comfortable, and I caught a glimpse of two people hanging out inside one, talking casually.

 

We finally stopped at the end of the hall, the doors to the room beyond it left wide open, to my dismay. "This is it," Torvar commented, adding, "Good luck. I hope you'll be able to stick around. It'd be nice to have a new person to share an ale with sometime."

 

"Thanks," I remarked as he walked away, surprised at the sincerity in his voice.

 

I stood there at the threshold for a moment, composing myself before I stepped into the room, my eyes immediately landing on two people deep in conversation at a table in a corner rather than taking in the other decor. One of them seemed relatively young, perhaps in his mid to late twenties. Though he was sitting, I figured he was a good bit taller than me, and appeared relatively experienced. He wore a very interesting set of what looked like steel armor, but more ornate and impressive-looking than its typical style. His expression looked troubled, and the black warpaint around his eyes not doing much to change that. The other man was considerably older, his hair and beard a snowy white and his face lined by experience, though it was clear by the way he held himself that he had been a great warrior, and probably still a force to be reckoned with. He was dressed in armor similar to the other man's, but his seemed almost more regal-looking. I immediately assumed he was Kodlak. They both seemed to be having a very serious conversation, and, as I got closer to them, I managed to make some of it out.

 

"... But I still hear the call of the blood," the younger of the two men finished, sounding almost scared.

 

 _Call of the blood? What?_ I wondered silently.

 

"We all do. It is our burden to bear. But we can overcome," Kodlak responded, and then both turned to look at me, aware of my presence.

 

"A stranger comes to our hall."

 

"I'm Toralf the Fearless, and I would like to join the Companions," I stated somewhat proudly, waiting for an answer.

 

"Would you now?" Kodlak sounded amused, "Here, let me have a look at you."

 

I obliged, just standing there as I found myself unable to do anything else under the old man's piercing gaze.

 

After what seemed like an eternity, but in actuality was just a matter of seconds, he nodded slightly, saying, "Hm. Yes, perhaps. A certain strength of spirit."

 

I let out a small sigh of relief, only realizing just then I'd actually been holding my breath. However, my relief was cut short rather quickly.

 

"Master, you're not truly considering accepting  _him_?" The other person at the table exclaimed, sounding incredulous.

 

I bristled at this and was about to shoot back a retort when Kodlak spoke again, responding with, "I am nobody's master, Vilkas. And last I checked, we had some empty beds in Jorrvaskr for those with a fire burning in their hearts."

 

"Apologies. But perhaps this isn't the time. I've never even  _heard_  of this outsider."

 

"Sometimes the famous come to us. Sometimes men and women come to us to seek their fame. It makes no difference. What matters is their heart."

 

"And their arm," Vilkas added, still looking at me skeptically.

 

I glared at him this time, tired of being grossly underestimated. I had half a mind to show him just how strong of a fighter I was then and there.

 

"Of course," Kodlak agreed, "How are you in a battle, boy?"

 

"I can handle myself," I responded, my tone confident and modestly boastful.

 

The younger warrior rolled his eyes and looked as if he was about to something, but the older man smiled amusedly, "That may be so. This is Vilkas," he gestured at the other man, "He will test your arm."

 

He then turned to face Vilkas alone, saying, "Vilkas, take him out to the yard and see what he can do."

 

 _Wait... So he's going to decide if I'm good enough to keep around?_ I realized, dread settling in the pit of my stomach. He didn't look like he was willing to even give me a chance. This didn't bode well...

 

"Aye," Vilkas responded, getting up from his chair with an unreadable look on his face as he started off in the direction of wherever the training yard was. I followed from a distance, wary and slightly nervous.

 

 _Toralf, you've come too far for this guy to ruin everything_ , I thought as I squared my shoulders, taking a deep breath as I sped up,  _you're getting in for sure. You have to._

 

And, with those thoughts, I stepped out into the training yard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here's the legitimate first chapter of Companion. Toralf's a bit of a cocky, arrogant jerk, but he'll straighten up soon enough in a place like Jorrvaskr. Maybe.
> 
> \- AA


	3. "New Blood"

There were a lot more people in the training yard than I thought there would be. And none of them seemed to be training, either, as I walked out onto Jorrvaskr’s porch, headed towards the large expanse of surprisingly even cobble and dirt beyond it. By the great number of people on the porch, I figured I was being evaluated by all of them, regardless of whether it was ‘formal’ or not. The older man I’d first thought was the leader of the Companions was there, as well as the two brawlers from earlier, and another woman I’d never seen before was there too; even though not all of them were being very obvious about it, as some were conversing amongst themselves about relatively trivial things, I could tell they were eager to see how well or how terribly I did.

 

 _Seems they all came here for a show. Let’s give ‘em what they came for,_  I thought with a smirk, catching up to Vilkas, who was just a few paces ahead of me, now holding a shield in one of his hands. He eyed me with a look I could only identify as either irritation or disgust, sighing flatly, “The old man said to have a look at you, so let’s do this. Just have a few swings at me, so I can see your form. Don’t worry, I can take it.”

 

After a slight amount of hesitation, I unslung my warhammer and made a half-hearted pass at him, not sure exactly how well he could hold up to me if I used much more of my strength, and kept myself from putting much power in my swing.

 

At this, Vilkas grinned amusedly, though it wasn’t a very friendly smile, “Is  _that_  the best you can do? I’ve fought  _mudcrabs_  fiercer than you!”

 

Someone on the porch sniggered at his comment, and I grit my teeth, sufficiently provoked.  _I’ll show you mudcrabs,_  I snarled silently as I came at him again, swinging at him with every ounce of effort put into this blow. He managed to raise his shield to block me, but the impact sent him skidding backwards, and he dropped to one knee momentarily to regain his balance.

 

“He’s not half-bad,” I recognized that this comment came from Njada, and it boosted my spirits a little to know I’d impressed  _someone_  out here.

 

“Looks slow to me,” the woman I hadn’t met remarked in response, sounding completely unimpressed.

 

Once Vilkas recomposed himself, he remarked somewhat begrudgingly, “Pretty good arm you have there.”

 

He got back into a fighting stance, obviously wanting me to demonstrate more of my ability with my weapon, and I obliged, striking at him a few more times, showing off my best techniques and making sure to land my blows hard.

 

Sooner than I expected, the dark-haired Nord made a signal for me to stop and straightened, and said in a tone that sounded slightly disappointed, “Not bad. Next time won’t be so easy. You might just make it.”

 

 _Hah, I can’t believe getting in was this easy,_  I thought to myself, celebrating inwardly at this personal victory.

 

“But for now, you’re still a whelp to us, new blood. So you do what we tell you.”

 

_Wait, what?_

 

Suddenly, the mercenary unsheathed the sword at his side and handed it to me, leaving me no other choice but to take it from him. Confused at why he’d just given me his sword, I opened my mouth to ask, but he cut me off with an abrupt order, “Here is my sword. Go take it up to Skyforge, and give it to Eorlund to have it sharpened.”

 

I stared at him blankly for a second, not quite wanting to comprehend those orders, but I decided I might as well do as he said, even though I desperately wanted to give it back and tell him to do it himself. There were still people watching, and I wasn’t going to let this pretentious idiot drive me away no matter how much of a jerk he was.

 

I turned to go do as he asked, but was stopped by the son of a skeever adding with a chuckle, “And be careful, it’s probably worth more than you are.”

 

I stiffened and froze in my tracks at this backhanded comment, and practically forced myself not to turn around and show him what’s what. Letting out a long, controlled sigh, I made myself walk up the path to Skyforge, my once jovial mood quite befouled by the realization I was practically an errands-boy at this point.

 

The sun was shining almost blindingly bright when I reached Skyforge; with no type of shade to block it out, my surroundings became somewhat more dazzling as well, with the sun reflecting off of the smoother rocks. The bird-shaped monument looked even more impressive up close, the detail of it exquisite and its size truly gargantuan, and its eyes seemed to glow a brilliant white - though that might have just been a trick of the sun. Even though it was day, the braziers around the forge glowed fiercely, which was a detail I found slightly peculiar but decided to overlook in my interest in the rest of the place.

 

The forge itself appeared practically immaculate, with its equipment organized efficiently and in a manner that was pleasing to the eye. However, my gaze immediately went to a figure who was pounding something into shape on his anvil, who I immediately assumed to be Eorlund, and I waited courteously for a few seconds, hoping he’d finish whatever it was he was doing soon.

 

Luckily, he chanced to look up and caught sight of me and ceased working on whatever weapon he’d been making, straightening up with an unreadable expression on his face. As he walked over to me, I figured he was somewhere around Kodlak’s age, but seemed taller and a bit more robust in stature. His snowy-white hair and beard were stained with soot from the forge, and it was clear from his muscle-mass he’d been at smithing for quite a long time.

 

“What brings you here?” Eorlund asked me somewhat gruffly, crossing his arms.

 

“...Vilkas sent me with his sword…” I responded, sounding somewhat irked as I nodded at the sword in my hands.

 

The blacksmith took it from me, remarking amusedly, “I’m guessing you’re the newcomer, then.”

 

“Does Vilkas  _always_  send newcomers on errands?” I asked incredulously, surprised at the accuracy of his remark.

 

“Oh, don’t worry too much about it. They were all whelps once. They just might not like to talk about it. And don’t always just do what you’re told. Nobody rules anybody in the Companions.”

 

His last statement confused me. Nobody  _rules_  anybody _? How does that even work? That can't be possible. Someone has to be there to keep others in line and solve disputes, at the very least!_  I thought to myself, asking through a statement, “Someone has to be in charge.”

 

“Well, I’m not sure how they’ve managed it, but they have. No leaders since Ysgramor,” Eorlund confirmed, adding, “Kodlak is the Harbinger, and he’s a sort of advisor for the whole group, but every man is his own. Every woman, her own.”

 

“Then are  _you_  a Companion?” I asked him, a little surprised by how well he seemed to know the faction.

 

“Not actually a Companion myself, but none of them know how to work a forge properly, and I’m honored to serve them.”

 

 

 _Well, that makes sense,_  I thought to myself, and decided to leave the man to his work, “I’ll need to be going…”

 

Just as I was about to turn away from the blacksmith, he stopped me with the words, “I have a favor to ask.”

 

“What is it, exactly?” I responded somewhat flatly, though I was willing to at least hear him out..

 

“I’ve been working on a shield for Aela. My wife is in mourning and I’d like to get back to her soon. I’d be much obliged if you could take this to Aela for me.”

 

 _Aela? Hm, haven’t run into her before, but she even sounds pretty…_  I mused, saying aloud with a shrug and a small grin, “Sure, I’ll do that.”

 

“That’s a good man,” Eorlund smiled slightly, retrieving a sturdy-looking hide shield from a nearby stone ledge and handing it to me carefully.

 

Holding onto the shield gingerly, I started back down the hill, eager to get through with all these ‘go-here-and-fetch-this’ assignments and meet some of the others. I sincerely hoped that the others acted more like that Torvar fellow who’d been so friendly to me before, and not like  _Vilkas_. And I hoped I’d be done with being the lowest man on the totem pole soon, too. This was definitely not what I’d imagined myself doing the first day I was with the Companions.

 

~~~~

 

The moment I re-entered Jorrvaskr, I nearly ran straight into someone heading out. “Sorry,” I remarked, though I sounded more annoyed than remorseful.

 

“Hey, watch yourself,” came the mildly amused response.

 

Actually looking at the person I had run into, I was a bit taken aback at their appearance. She was almost a head taller than me and built in such a way I figured she could wrestle a horker and win, and was wearing a set of that strange steel armor that all of the more senior members of the Companions seemed to be wearing. Her dark brown hair was secured in a simple braid, and her eyes, almost black in color, shone with amusement. Her skin was lightly tanned, which also made it incredibly easy to see the light lines of an already quite prominent set of two parallel scars on the right side of her face, starting at her cheekbone and slicing diagonally down towards her jawline, where the marks promptly ended. She looked like she was somewhere around the same age as Vilkas, but she seemed nice enough, though she also looked like someone I wouldn’t get on the wrong side of.

 

“Oh! I’m guessing you’re the new whelp of the group, by your sour expression. Don’t worry, it gets better than what you’re doing now,” the woman remarked, the tone of her voice still light and friendly.

 

“You’d be right in guessing I’m new,” I answered, pausing before asking, “Is it always this bad for new members?”

  
“I certainly ran my share of petty errands when I was a whelp, but hey. It’s not going to last forever. Oh, and before I forget, I heard you did a pretty decent job in your spar against Vilkas with that warhammer of yours. Keep it up, kid, and you’ll be rising through the ranks soon enough.”

 

"My name's Toralf," I said, a bit miffed about being called 'kid'.

 

"Nice to meet ya. I’m Averill,” she returned, extending her hand, clearly expecting a formal handshake. I took it, and barely kept from crying out at how strong her grip was.

 

“Well, it was a pleasure getting to know the new blood, but I’m sure you’ve got stuff you need to be doing, and I  _know_  I do. See ya ‘round, kid,” Averill finished, walking away from me and exiting the building before I could even protest at being called ‘kid’ again.

 

 _I guess I am pretty young, at least, compared to the other people I’ve met here…_  I told myself, forcing myself to get over it. It then occurred to me I hadn’t even thought of asking Averill where I might find Aela. Letting out a groan of exasperation, I looked around, seeing no one in the main hall of the building save the Dunmer, Athis, who I’d seen earlier, and a younger fellow, clearly of Redguard lineage, whom I hadn’t met. The former was absently toying with a dagger, its razor-sharp edges glinting in the low light, and he was clearly bored, though by no means unalert yet, a permanent scowl seemingly etched into his face; the latter was lazily leaning against one of the wooden supports of the hall, and, surprisingly enough, he was mowing through a rather cumbersome-looking novel, his eyebrows furrowing as his eyes darted across the pages, and it was clear he was totally engrossed in what he was reading.

 

Deciding it would be best not to disturb either of them, I headed towards the steps leading to the subterranean level of the building, figuring I’d probably find Aela somewhere down there, unless she was off doing something - which would probably be just my luck, with how things were going today.

 

I wandered around the hallways of what I now assumed were the living quarters, and nearly considered going back up to ask someone if she was even here when I suddenly heard voices coming from behind a set of doors to my left, and I could’ve sworn I heard a male voice say the name “Aela”. I stood there awkwardly for a moment, deciding finally to push the double doors open. Upon my entrance in the room, I immediately saw one of the most attractive women I’ve ever laid eyes on. Luckily for me, she seemed somewhere around my age, and she looked to be around the same height as I was. She was fit and quite toned, but was not at all big-boned or stocky in appearance, and her skin was a healthy, peachy color, practically rendering any scars she might have unnoticeable and further accenting the three diagonal streaks of well-applied, olive green warpaint on her face, the pattern almost looking like claw marks. Her medium-length auburn hair framed her face perfectly, and her eyes, currently glinting in slight annoyance, were a bright gold-green. There was no doubt in my mind that this beauty was Aela.

 

"You again?" A voice asked, causing me to jump in surprise.

 

The older warrior I probably hadn't made the best impression on was also in the room, looking even more irritated than Aela did. However, I was interrupting their conversation, or whatever it was, for a valid reason, so I completely ignored their slightly vexed expressions.

 

"...I've got your shield," I half-announced, making what I was holding more obvious as I held it out for her, giving her a rakish grin as I waited.

 

She took the buckler from me with a slight nod of thanks, completely ignoring my expression as she said, "Ah, good. I've been waiting for this," she paused for a moment, this time actually looking at me before continuing, "Are you new here?"

 

"I told you, this is the whelp that Vilkas mentioned," the older man cut in, his tone and features unreadable.

 

 _Ohhh no. Vilkas? What's he been saying?_  I suddenly felt uneasy, and wondered if my reluctance to go all-out on my first swing would negatively affect my reputation, and possibly make me seem weak to the others. I sincerely hoped he'd done nothing to tarnish my barely even made reputation-

 

"Ah, yes. I heard you gave him quite a thrashing."

 

 _Wait. Quite a thrashing?_  I was barely able to fight back a smug smirk at that comment.  _They haven't seen anything yet._

 

"Don't let Vilkas catch you sayin’ that," the older Companion remarked teasingly, and that statement made it impossible for me to keep from grinning.

 

"Do you think you could handle Vilkas in a real fight?"

 

Aela's question came almost out of the blue, and honestly caught me by surprise. After a moment's thought, I responded somewhat airily, "Possibly. I don't really care for boasting."

 

"Ah, a man of action," she didn't sound nor did she look particularly impressed, continuing on with, “Here, let’s have Farkas show you where you’ll be resting your head.”

 

“Farkas!” The senior warrior called, and I suddenly heard rushed footsteps coming from the hallway.

 

My first thought when I laid eyes on Farkas was,  _Holy horker dung, did Vilkas grow_? Almost everything about this guy made him look like a dead ringer for Vilkas, whom I now assumed was his twin. They had the same color eyes, hair, skin tone, they even wore the same armor and warpaint. The only real differences that I could detect were that he was considerably taller than his brother, and thus completely dwarfed me in size, and he seemed to be twice as muscular as Vilkas. His current expression was different as well; rather than being dark and brooding, he had a relatively friendly look to him, though he seemed to be slightly confused at the same time.

 

“Did you call me?” He asked, causing the older warrior to let out an exasperated groan.

 

“Of course we did, icebrain,” Aela sighed, “Show this new blood where the rest of the whelps sleep.”

 

“New blood?” Farkas looked down slightly, the action worsening the embarrassment of knowing that I was considerably shorter than him, and actually smiled slightly, saying, “Oh, hello. I’m Farkas. Come, follow me.”

 

I did as I was told, nodding respectfully to the two other warriors before I left the room, who, unsurprisingly, didn’t return the gesture.

 

We walked in silence for a couple long moments, but Farkas decided to break it with, “Skjor and Aela like to tease me, but they are good people. They challenge us to be our best.”

 

I simply nodded at that comment, showing I’d heard, but wasn’t quite sure how best to respond to that comment.

 

“Nice to have a new face around. It gets boring here sometimes,” Farkas commented a few seconds later, “I hope we keep you. This can be a rough life.”

 

“I… Thanks,” I responded, a bit taken aback by the sincereness of his statement.

 

At that moment, we came to a divide in the hall, and Farkas made a turn to the right, announcing, “The quarters are up here. Just pick a bed and fall in it whenever you’re tired. Tilma will keep the place clean. She always has.”

 

The room we entered was simple enough in appearance, with a stone floor and stone walls, the only lights in the room coming from a few half-melted candles that had been left in various places. There were a few wall shelves and even some shields hung up for display, making the room seem a bit less barren, though the beds were as simple as one might expect them to be, merely animal skin, straw, and wood. Of course, not that I was expecting otherwise. Some had the look of being slept in, and those particular beds typically had what looked to be some of the owner's personal belongings around in its general area. We were currently the only ones in the room, which was kind of a relief.

 

"When you're done settling in, dinner's about to start in the main hall. I'll try and save you a seat so I can tell you who's who, if you'd like."

 

"Thanks. I'll be up shortly," I responded gratefully, him merely nodding in reply and leaving the room.

 

Now alone, I looked around for the best positioned unused-looking bed, finding one in one of the furthest corners of the right side of the room. However, as I stood there, it came to my attention I didn't have much to mark my new space with. I'd sold all most of my possessions simply for practicality's sake, but now it seemed that I'd be needing to do a bit of shopping whenever I could find the time. I suppose I can just leave my gauntlets here. Can't very well eat with these things on, I thought, sniggering at the hilariously awkward scenario that came to mind.

 

After carefully placing my gauntlets on my 'new' bed, I ran my hands through my hair carefully, hoping I didn't look too horrible from all my running around earlier today. I still hadn't really met everyone here, and I wanted to make a good first impression on them.

 

A sudden thought hit me as I was just about to leave the room. I hadn't actually had a bed since -  _No, you're supposed to forget about that. Bad,_  I admonished myself, letting out a slightly defeated sigh,  _That's what all that drinking's supposed to help with_.

 

Shaking my head in an attempt to clear it, I left the room quickly, eager to get to dinner for more than one reason. I did come here to make myself a reputation, and I was going to do just that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I finally managed to get this chapter up, despite it already being written and largely unedited. It was written more recently than the other two chapters of this story, and therefore is a good deal longer and will need less editing in the future. I hope you all enjoyed this, and I hope to see you next chapter!
> 
> \- AA


	4. Introductions

The blazing warmth of the great hall struck me as I reached the top of the stairs, but I barely noticed the change in temperature, as my attention was directed towards the most magnificently laid-out banquet I'd ever laid eyes on in my life. Every inch of the enormous bracket-shaped oaken table was laden with an impossibly large selection of delicious-looking food of all descriptions, and, despite all of it looking like food fit for the gods, an enormous beef roast of some sort held a place of honor in the center of the longest section, making me feel even hungrier than I had before. Several people were already seated at the table, the buzz of conversation and the occasional uproarious laugh or drunken guffaw reaching my ears as I stood there, nothing short of slightly awestruck. It took me a few moments to accept the fact that everything I was seeing was actually  _real_ , but when I did, it took me very little time to spring into action.

 

True to his word, Farkas had saved a seat for me, and, thankfully, Vilkas was on the other side of him, which I figured put enough distance between us for one dinner. The person who would be sitting on the other side of me turned out to be Averill, the only female Companion I'd actually personally met today aside from Aela - who was seated at the end of one of the smaller 'side' tables and was listening to something Skjor was telling her intently, neither of them seeming to notice that I'd just entered the room. My seating arrangement wasn't one that I would've picked if I could've, but I figured they were decent enough seeing as I  _was_  new here; also, I noticed that most of the newer Companions seemed to be crowded around the small table on the opposite side of the fire pit from where Skjor, Aela, and Kodlak were sitting, and honestly, it was probably a small honor to be sitting where I would be for the night.

 

Vilkas looked slightly put off as he ate, stabbing a slice of venison on his plate moodily, the sour look on his face making me  _very_  glad that he wasn't sitting next to me tonight. Farkas, on the other hand, seemed to be in considerably higher spirits as he was stuffing his face rather enthusiastically. He was wolfing down a lightly buttered hunk of bread without restraint until an elbow in the ribs from his brother caused him to stop. Looking slightly sheepish, Farkas gave his brother a half grin and a slight shrug in response to his put-off expression, though it merely gained him an annoyed grunt in response as the crankier of the two brothers went back to eating.

 

 _How are those two even related? They may_ look _similar, but they act_ nothing _alike whatsoever,_ I wondered to myself as I took my seat, earning a nod from Averill and an actual greeting from Farkas. He shot me a friendly smile, saying, "Tilma cooked up quite a feast for us tonight, in case you didn't notice. Feel free to help yourself to anything you want."

 

"Thanks," I replied, and noticing the empty - and relatively valuable-looking - pewter plate in front of me, I picked it up and took a serving of whatever looked good that could fit on my plate, which was a difficult task, considering that more or less  _everything_  looked divine.

 

Once I'd finished serving myself, I heard an amused chuckle from my right, and glanced in that direction only to see that Averill was grinning at me. "Just so you know, there's no reason to make yourself sick on food. This is a relatively typical dinner for those who live under Jorrvaskr's roof," she remarked, her grin widening at my surprised expression.

 

"... I knew that," I forced myself to assume a neutral expression as I replied quickly - a bit  _too_  quickly, it seemed, as my response seemed to only amuse her further.

 

"There's no shame in not knowing how things work around here. You're new. We were all new here once," Farkas added, taking a break from inhaling the generous servings of food on his plate to contribute to the current conversation, "Since most everyone's here right now, I can tell you who they are and what you need to know about them, if you'd like."

 

"That would be helpful, I suppose," I replied with a slight shrug, trying not to sound overly grateful in my response, despite being relieved I could be saved the effort - and potential embarrassment - of going out of my way to meet the rest of the people I'd be spending quite a while with.

 

"Might as well start with the people who've been here the longest. Obviously, that would be both Kodlak and Skjor - I know you've met them both already, though, but you probably know little  _about_  them. Kodlak's probably spent more time among the Companions than Skjor, I think, seeing as Skjor fought in the Great War against the Dominion before he came to Jorrvaskr, and I'm almost certain Kodlak was a Companion during that particular stretch of time - though my brother would be the person to ask if you want more details than that. All you really need to know about either of them is: one, if they tell you to do something, you should do it, and two, they may be the 'senior' warriors of this faction, but their age has not made them weak in mind, strength, nor in spirit. Try to remember that."

 

Though he didn't even need to tell me that the two were  _very_  important people in this group's 'hierarchy', I made a mental note to do my best to stay in their good graces, especially as I could tell that, despite their age, they were anything but decrepit old men. However, I highly doubted I'd be asking Vilkas for  _anything_  any time soon, considering our current dissatisfaction with one another.

 

"After Skjor and Kodlak, my brother and I have been here the longest - since we were children, actually, though we didn't do much but train during our first years here. As for what you need to know about us, well, Skjor says that I have the strength of Ysgramor and my brother has his smarts," Farkas shrugged slightly as he spoke, pausing to take another bite of food, "We both favor longswords and heavy armor. If you ever decide to take up wearing heavy armor, I could show you a few tricks concerning how to get the best use out of it, and my brother's very skilled with most two-handed weapons."

 

"Thank you for the offer. I'll remember that," I replied in a gracious tone, though silently, I swore I'd sooner go ask a  _hagraven_  to help me train than Vilkas. I might actually get out of that ensuing fight in one piece.

 

"A few years after we came here, Averill joined up, and is one of the two female members currently in the Circle, along with Kodlak, Skjor, and my brother and I. She's from Clan Brunwin, which -"

 

"I'm right here, you know, Farkas," Averill interrupted good-naturedly, continuing for him, "Clan Brunwin's been around nearly as long as the Battle-Borns and Grey-Manes have been, and, thank the gods, we've been able to avoid their infantile squabbling over the Civil War. My clan's had close ties to the Companions over the years, and it's rather common for at least a few members of each generation to join up here. I'm the second oldest of my generation, my older brother beating me by just a year - and, adding to that, he's the Thane of Whiterun. And he's never let me forget that, either. But all you really need to know about me as a new member of the Companions is that I favor battle-axes, and, as long as I'm not getting ready to head somewhere for a job, I'm more than willing to help with training, should you ever be interested in learning how to use one."

 

"Thanks," I replied somewhat noncommittally - though it was nice of her to offer a new recruit training, I figured I wouldn't be needing her help, especially as warhammers and battle-axes had to be  _very_  similar in terms of their use in a fight.  _Well, I suppose it's good to know that she's got kin in high places,_  I thought to myself, only now really considering that I was surrounded by some of the most influential individuals in Whiterun - or ones with influential connections, at least.

 

"Aela's the other female member of the Circle, and she's been here for most of the time my brother and I have lived under the roof of Jorrvaskr. She favors the bow, and is an excellent marksman - and she's the best one out of everyone in Jorrvaskr. She likes hunting, and my brother and I accompany her on occasion, though Skjor tends to be the one to go with her the most."

 

 _Hunting, huh? Kinda wish I'd bothered to pick up that skill, now,_  I mused somewhat disappointedly, my gaze lingering on the unfairly attractive auburn-haired huntress as Farkas spoke about her.  _Perhaps I could ask her to teach me, if she ever offered-_

 

" _Uh-uh_. That's not advisable."

 

"Uh-what?" I snapped out of my daze embarrassedly, turning to look at Averill, who was currently giving me a disapproving look.

 

"I know that look, and it's not a decent one. Just be glad Aela didn't catch you staring at her like that," she replied bluntly, her easygoing nature all but quenched at the moment.

 

"What exactly is wrong with appreciating a woman's beauty?" I defended myself, and Averill's slight scowl deepened.

 

"Oh  _gods_ ," she sighed under her breath, seeming a bit less friendly and a lot more resigned than she had earlier, but she made no further comment, turning her attention to the food on her plate.

 

Farkas shifted awkwardly where he was sitting during our exchange, but no one else seemed to have taken notice of the conversation I'd had with Averill, either too engaged in eating, drinking, or other conversations to pay any attention to us - which I was grateful for. There was an awkward pause between us for a few seconds, but he soon continued his introductions with, "There's one more member of the Circle, but he's not here, at present. He's out on a job. His name is Geirr, and he's a 'jack of all trades' when it comes to weapons, though he seems to favor maces more than anything else. He's an... interesting individual, I guess."

 

From his tone of voice, Farkas didn't sound like he particularly liked Geirr, and that automatically made me feel uneasy about him. If  _Farkas_ , the one guy in this group who seemed to get along incredibly well with  _everybody_ , didn't like this person, I was slightly concerned about what kind of person he was.  _Well, you can't get along with_ everybody _I guess,_ I thought to myself, Vilkas' scowling face entering my mind at that thought.

 

"And now, to introduce you to the other 'whelps', who you'll more likely than not be spending a  _lot_  of time with. They all typically sit over in that area of this table," Farkas then gestured to the left side of the bracket shaped stand, "Let's start with Torvar. He's been here the longest of any of the whelps, almost five years, which is even longer than the amount of time Geirr has been a member of the Companions. Nice enough guy, but relatively unmotivated, yet he expects that seniority should be enough to boost his rank here rather than hard work. He's good with warhammers though, and, if you can get him to, he'd probably be someone worth getting pointers from on your own form - he's a lot more adept at fighting than he usually appears.

 

"The woman sitting on his right, the one who's currently bickering with the Redguard? That's Njada. She's been here the second longest of all the 'whelps' here, and I advise you steer clear of her if you're trying to avoid getting into a fight. She seems to be able to bring out the worst in many of the other whelps. The man she's arguing with is Rassan. He's been here for a couple of years, and might even be able to rival my brother in a battle of wits," Farkas added the last part in a low voice and turned towards me and further away from his brother as he spoke, and I sniggered at his comment, "And, apparently, he may or may not have some ties to the Ali'kr. I wouldn't pay much attention to rumors about him, though. He's good with those scimitars of his, and that's all that matters here.

 

"The Dunmer is Athis. To be entirely honest with you, he worries me a bit. He's a sneaky fellow, preferring daggers over any other kind of weapon, and his tongue's as sharp as his blades. Approach him with caution, if you interact with him at all. He's one person I would try to stay on the good side of, if I were you. And that leaves our newest recruit besides you, the Imperial girl, Ria. She's a nice girl, but let me tell you that she's a lot tougher than she looks."

 

 _Tough_ and _pretty? She's no Aela, but nevertheless..._ I thought to myself, 

 

"So, that's everyone, really," Farkas finished simply, taking a long drink from his tankard before adding, "Hope that was helpful."

 

"Believe me, it was. Thank you," I replied sincerely, and there was a brief but comfortable silence between us as we resumed eating.

 

After a few minutes had passed, a very important question suddenly arose in my mind. "Hey, Farkas? Do you know what I'll be doing tomorrow? Surely I'll have a job to do, right?" I asked my new friend, excitement managing to bleed through my feigned 'casual' tone as I spoke.

 

Farkas grinned at my enthusiasm, shaking his head slightly as he responded, "You'll have plenty to do, for certain, but it might not be anything close what you're thinking it is. As a 'new blood' the most you'll usually be doing around here during your first weeks often consists of running errands, training, or, on the rare occasion, there might be some relatively low-risk job you could take on. And, as a matter of fact, you might be in luck. I might just have something you could do. If you want to take a job, that is-"

 

"I'm very interested in whatever job you might have," I cut in quickly, pouncing the minute he gave me such an enticing offer.

 

"Well, I'll have to check with Kodlak before giving the job to you, so I can't promise anything - but I will try to see that you have  _something_  to do off of Jorrvaskr's grounds during your first days among us. The first weeks can be trying - but it's better to be bored than dead."

 

"True enough," I said with a shrug, but I figured that whatever kind of job he had in mind, short of slaying a giant on my own, I could easily do. I realized that Farkas hadn't been present when I was sparring with his brother, and figured that was the reason that he was a little wary of sending me out to do something having only just joined up - he didn't know  _how_  experienced I was with a warhammer. But that didn't matter. One way or another, I was going to make a name for myself here, even if I had to earn it all on my own with no help - it wasn't like I was here for the sole purpose of making friends, anyway.

 

Farkas and I finished eating in silence, and, partly due to the fact we'd been talking for so long during the meal, we were some of the last to finish eating. It was relatively late at this point, as the flames from the cooking pit cast flickering light in the now considerably darker main hall, and those around us were just beginning to retire to their rooms - though, despite everyone else looking entirely worn out, the members of the Circle seemed almost... alert, despite what time of day it was. I found this observation unsettling, but shook it off, figuring that as senior warriors, they'd probably built up a considerable amount of stamina, and accordingly wouldn't be as tired as those who were 'less competent' than them.

 

It was then I discovered I was getting rather tired myself, and I took my leave, saying goodbye to Farkas and Averill and shooting an inconspicuous glance at Aela as I left. She was still talking with Skjor, both of them seeming to be entirely at ease with one another and they looked like they were very much enjoying themselves. Unconsciously, my fists clenched tightly as unpleasant thoughts about the two of them arose in my mind, but I forced myself to snap out of it quickly, and I proceeded down to Jorrvaskr's living quarters without looking back again.

 

Most of the others were already down in the relatively spacious barracks, most of them reading or bickering, though I noticed Ria had already gone to bed. When I walked into the room, some conversations died and curious or unfriendly looks were sent my way, and I did my best to ignore both as I headed towards my bed. Rassan apparently had a claim on the bed on the other side of the room and parallel to mine, and currently was reading the same novel I'd seen him so engrossed in earlier - he was nearly finished with it, which impressed me a bit, as it looked like a rather cumbersome read. The bed in the lower left corner of the room was Athis', and he was seated at the foot of it, sharpening a steel dagger with a bored, slightly vacant expression on his face.  _Does he do anything other than play with knives?_  I wondered to myself uneasily as I passed by him. Torvar had claim over the one nearest to mine, and, as I walked in, he gave me a friendly half-wave before turning his attention to the tankard of mead he'd probably smuggled out of the great hall.

 

I hadn't drunk as much as I usually did that night, and, coupling that with the annoying scraping sounds coming from Athis' quarter of the room, it took me a lot longer than usual to fall asleep that night. But, eventually, the noises stopped as the mer himself turned in for the night, and, for once, I fell into a pleasantly dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will Toralf manage to score that job that Farkas offered him? Will he make a name for himself among the other whelps, like he thinks he will? Will he continue to make a complete fool out of himself in front of pretty much everyone? I can guarantee you at least one of those three things will happen next chapter, and I'm pretty sure you can guess which is most likely. :3
> 
> On another note, though, I hope I managed to get the canon Companions' personalities down all right! I've always been somewhat better at writing for original characters than I have for canon characters, but I'm hoping that as this story progresses, it'll get easier for me and I'll (hopefully) get better.
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading, and I hope to see you next chapter!
> 
> \- AA


End file.
